Home
by Anieline
Summary: What happens after the postcredits scene in AWE: Will's homecoming. Rating change to M for ch 3, and you know what that means! Will and Elizabeth rediscover the perks of sharing a bed. *Edit 7/08* Just tweaking things. I think I've forgotten how to write.
1. Homecoming

EDIT JULY 2008 I have a habit of going back to stories and chapters I have written and posted to correct and tweak anything that might need it. Since I started this story a year ago, I've gone and done it quite a few times, but haven't gotten around to reposting it. But just recently I've started reading POTC fanfiction online again, and decided to start work on this again. I still haven't thought of an ending per se, though, so I honestly can't tell you for sure if this will ever be finished. Who knows? All I can promise is that I won't ignore it.

Now it's time for me to shut up. :)

As everyone here knows, I own nothing and make no money at all from this.

As her son skipped ahead of her, singing the song she had sung herself as a child, and which she had taught to William almost as soon as he could speak, Elizabeth approached the edge of the grassy bluff overlooking the sea. Shipwreck Island was visible a few miles away to the east, once an active volcano, now a lush, mountainous island that housed the most secret pirate headquarters in the Caribbean. The gigantic sun was sinking quickly beneath the horizon, which was, at the moment, completely empty of any ships.

She reached her son as he finished his song, and as she came up alongside him, he glanced up at her with a hopeful, worried expression. She knew he was wondering if the man he would soon be meeting would be as great as he was in the stories his mother had told, which was all that had sustained him in the nine long years he had been alive without a father. Uncle Jack's stories had been a bit more exaggerated, where William Turner the Second (or The Whelp, as he was affectionately known to Uncle Jack) usually took second place to Uncle Jack himself in whatever situation they had found themselves, in that particular story. William felt the butterflies in his stomach even after his mother had smiled down on him, reassuring, but just as worried.

Elizabeth pulled her son closer and put her arm around his shoulder, not only to comfort him, but to give her a little support, as her knees felt weak with anticipation. Feelings of hope and uncertainty fleeted though her as she stared out to sea with her son, her miracle, her beautiful last parting gift her husband had left her. She didn't dare blink as the sun crept closer to the horizon. Finally though, as the last of it disappeared, a bright flash of green shot across the water and through the sky, and a ship appeared in the distance, close to the point where the sun had sunk beneath the sea.

Elizabeth let out the sigh she hadn't realized she had been holding in and looked down at her son, who smiled back at her breathlessly, awed at the magic he had just seen, and what he knew it brought with it. The _Dutchman_ was still too far away to discern anyone on board, but it was approaching the shore quickly. Elizabeth, her heart quaking and full to the brim of giddy anticipation, suddenly turned to William and said, "Let's go down to the beach and meet him!"

Without a second word, they started to run.

Captain Will Turner stood in the crow's nest of the _Flying Dutchman_ and scanned the shoreline for the sight any people. His eyes, which had grown much sharper as an immortal collector of lost souls at sea, could see the outline of a person on top of the bluff overlooking the same beach he had departed exactly ten years ago. At this distance he could barely make out a long skirt blowing in the wind. Something in his gut told him, _it's her._ He grinned widely and reached for his telescope, only to realize that he had left it in his quarters. Looking again to make sure the figure was still there, he quickly made his way down to the deck, where his father was waiting.

"I thought you'd be wantin' this, Captain," the older man said with a slight smile, and handed his son the stray telescope. Will smiled back at his father and took it, but with a sudden wrenching pang of sadness and loneliness, as he realized that it would be at least ten more years until they saw each other again. It had been agreed among the crew, and supported by Calypso on one of her visits in corporeal form, that Bootstrap would be taking Will's place as captain of the _Dutchman_.

"It was always in my blood to die at sea," he had said when they were discussing this, "Why shouldn't I have a turn at helping those who have already been lost to it before going myself? Much as I'd like to stay with you, lad, I wouldn't much know what to do with myself on land…" Will had understood, but it was still difficult. Theirs hadn't exactly been the easiest relationship, but throughout the last decade, the two men had grown closer than they both could have ever expected.

Bringing himself back to the present, Will took the telescope and focused it back on the bluff, but the figure was nowhere to be seen. He felt the bottom drop out of his stomach as he frantically searched the bluff and the shore.

"She's gone…" he choked, "she was just there – where did she go?"

"She's there," his father said calmly, "Don't doubt it. She's on her way."

By this time, the _Dutchman_ was close enough to shore for Will to swim the rest of the way, as the longboats were bound to the ship just as strongly as the crew were, in this realm of the living. Will put the telescope away, willing himself to be comforted by his father's words. The older man gazed at his son solemnly, but with a dark warmth in his eyes. The time had come.

"Father…" Will hardly ever called him that; usually it was "Mr. Turner" or "Bootstrap". Now though, he felt a little lost and uncertain, harkening back to how he would always feel as a child when he knew his father would soon be leaving on a long journey. At the moment, he was unable to put into words the thoughts and memories flashing through his mind, "I… I don't…"

"—Hush, now," Bootstrap said, as soothingly as if he were speaking to a troubled child. Will saw his father's expression and suddenly realized – Bootstrap knew – he understood everything, and he felt the same way. Suddenly there was no need for words anymore. There was a pause, then…

"I'll see you in ten years, lad. I'll stop by to visit, and then I'll be on my way."

Will nodded speechlessly, and drew his father in with a fierce hug. Bootstrap reciprocated, and with a last glance on the ship that had been his home for the last decade, and with a final look to his crew and to his father, Will threw himself overboard.

As soon as he hit the water, a voice sounded loudly and clearly in his head – familiar, eerie, distinctly Jamaican.

_You have fulfilled your oath, William Turner, and made me proud to have had you in my service. De Dutchman releases her hold on you. Go, be free wit dose whom you love._

Will broke the surface, sputtering and in shock, for when the voice finished speaking, a strong, nearly forgotten sensation was felt in his chest. His heart was returned to him, pumping blood to all corners of his body, making his joints tingle with warmth. He struggled in the water for a moment in surprise, reveling in the feeling of something as simple as a pulse. He laughed aloud as he realized - _It's over… Elizabeth is here, and she's waiting for me_… He quickly swam to shore, all the time looking anxiously for his wife.

He was just able to feel sand underneath his feet when she came around a dune towards him, from a path leading up to the top of the cliff. Elizabeth Turner might have been Captain of the _Empress_, Pirate Lord of the South China Sea, and Pirate King of the Brethren Court, but right now she had probably forgotten her own first name as she ran across the sand towards her husband. In the split second Will had for any coherent thought, he noticed that her hair was lighter - bleached by the sun, her skin was tan, her dress was well-worn, and her face was just as breathtakingly beautiful as he had ever seen. After that, he was automatic to what he saw and felt.

She ran to him, practically flying across the sand, and he was pulled to her just as strongly out of the surf as if by some unseen force. He would have called to her, but his throat had closed up at the sight of her. She filled his entire vision as she approached him, calling his name, laughing, crying, and finally throwing herself into his arms – nearly knocking him over, as his knees suddenly felt like the strength had been taken out of them. Will could do nothing else except hold her tightly in his arms and breathe her entire essence in. He closed his eyes against her shoulder as he enveloped her in his arms, one hand tangled in her hair, the other arm pressing her to him, soaking her in saltwater, almost willing their two bodies to melt and become one. _Thank you… Thank you…_ he thought – to Calypso, to Jack, to his father, and especially to Elizabeth – _for letting us have this moment._ He had to look her in the face now; he opened his eyes and saw her euphoric expression, her face streaked with joyful tears.

"Elizabeth…" he whispered hoarsely, "Elizabeth… you waited…"

She laughed aloud at him, her smile electrifying.

"Of course I did… oh, Will!"

And they kissed.

The weakness Will had felt in his knees since he had reached land suddenly evaporated, and was replaced with a surge of energy that shot through his entire body. He lifted his wife from the ground and twirled her around and around in the surf, both of them laughing giddily like they never wanted to stop. They were completely lost in each other until Will noticed something out of the corner of his eye, and stopped. There was a boy standing a few yards away, who was looking at them with an expression of fearful wonder. Will froze and stared into wide brown eyes that perfectly matched his own.

As William and his mother made their way to the beach, she soon outstripped him as she caught sight of the man swimming to shore from the _Dutchman_. William ran after his mother as he saw her fly across the sand to meet him, finally losing herself in his embrace. The man was tall, dripping with seawater, with tan skin and dark brown hair, and with a sword and boots and bandana just like his mother had told him about in her many stories. He was laughing euphorically – he had the largest, warmest smile William had ever seen, and the boy watched with motionless awe as the man embraced his mother. He stopped a short distance from them as they spun around and around, laughing and kissing. William was stunned – he had never seen his mother act like this in the nine long years he had been alive.

Finally the man caught sight of him, and William froze. The man froze as well, and both of them stared at each other until his mother spoke to the man with barely-composed delight:

"Will… this is your son."

As Elizabeth spoke those words, Will found himself unable to move.

_A son?_

He had never even considered this as a possibility during the ten years he had been at sea – what were the odds Elizabeth would become pregnant after only one day together? He had convinced himself that it couldn't have happened, but he was now trying to comprehend the fact that he was, and had been for more than nine years, a father. But he couldn't consciously grasp the idea at all – all he could do was look on the boy that so much resembled both him and Elizabeth, staring back at him in frozen hope.

"My son?" Will faltered, barely audible, and took a step forward.

"I named him William," said Elizabeth, stepping towards her son – _their_ son – putting her arm around him proudly and reassuringly. "William John Turner the Third."

Will's face suddenly broke out in a huge smile, and he took another small step toward William.

"Oh, my God…" he whispered breathlessly, biting his knuckle, "Oh good God…"

William suddenly escaped his mother's grasp and ran towards his father – the elusive, almost fictional figure from his mother's stories, seemingly having broken free from imagination into stark reality. This figure he had loved from a distance, known only in his imagination, had finally come to life, manifesting himself here on the beach.

Here was his father, smiling at him.

"Papa! _Papa!"_

Speechless, Will bent down to catch the running child and swept him into his arms, into the air. He spun around and around with him, just as he had done with his mother a few moments before. He kissed his boy's cheek, his facial stubble tickling him, and William laughed. Will had never felt joy like anything before in his life as he did when he heard his son laugh.

Finally he just held William aloft in his arms, glorying in the sight of him, aware of Elizabeth standing nearby, tears silently running down her smiling face. He belatedly realized that there were tears streaming from his eyes too, and William wiped them away with his sleeve.

"My son…" Will said simply and in awe, grinning at him.

"Papa," William said, grinning back.

"My son!" Will said again, playfully, loving hearing the endearment coming from his boy, his own child.

"Papa!" William shouted, joining the game, loving it just as much.

Elizabeth made a nose that sounded halfway between a laugh and a sob, and they looked to her, and moved to include her in their embrace. The three of them stood locked to each other in the oldest trinity known to humankind – mother, father, and child.

Finally, as the tears and the laughing passed, they just stood together on the beach as it grew dark, not saying a word, not wanting to disturb the moment. They watched the sea, now empty of the _Dutchman_, their hearts full of each other, swelled with love.

As it began to grow cold, Elizabeth looked to her husband and son.

"Let's go home," she said.

Will felt a vastly warm feeling swell in his heart. He was home.

"Yes," he said, holding his family close, "Show me the way."

And they started up the bluff.


	2. Bedtime

Will found himself in his son's surprisingly strong grip as he pulled him up the dune path by the hand. Will followed as quickly as he could, his other hand clasped with Elizabeth's. The three of them made their way to the top of the cliff as best they could in the growing dark.

"Come on, Papa, hurry!" called William, "I want you to see the house!" Will chuckled – he could already see the persistence in his son that he and Elizabeth shared.

"I'm coming, lad! Take it easy, it's been a while since I walked on land, never mind up a cliff in the dark!"

Elizabeth broke from Will and approached her son, stopping him.

"William, your father has already had a very eventful day. Why don't you run along ahead, and we'll catch up?"

William nodded obediently to his mother and was about to run on by himself, before he stopped and came back to Will. Will crouched down to his son's level and gave him a last hug.

"I'm glad you're here, Papa," William said, "I missed you." Will breathed in deeply, inhaling the sea breeze and his son's hair. He gave him a gentle squeeze, then looked at him.

"I'm glad too, William. I'm so glad _you're_ here," Will said, "And I'm so sorry… I—" His voice quickly died in his throat. How could he possibly put into words the immensity of what he was suddenly feeling, what he had so recently realized? And how could he possibly begin to ask forgiveness for it?

But it seemed that William didn't need to hear him explain or say anything. He only grinned widely, gave him a last squeeze, and ran up the path out of sight. Will and Elizabeth stood for a moment after he had gone, until finally, Will turned to his wife.

"Elizabeth… I… I don't kn—… I couldn't begin t—…"

She watched him as he tried to speak in this inarticulate way, then came in close to him, and resting her hands on his shoulders and the back of his neck, she said softly,

"I know,"

"Thank you," he whispered back, the only thing he could think of to say, "_Thank you_." Their lips were inches away.

"I would never have done anything less, Will," she said, "I've raised him as well as I could this far, but the truth is, he has missed you from the moment I first told him about you."

Will mistook this statement as one that requires an apology, and he flushed, looking away.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth… If I had known—"

"No, Will, I didn't mean it to sound that way!" Elizabeth gripped both his hands in hers, her eyes wide with sincerity. "I only meant that he has been looking forward to meeting you all his life, and I know that you have already more than lived up to your reputation in his eyes."

She could see Will's eyes darken in the fading light, become infinitely tender.

"I know that there was nothing else that could have been done on your part," she continued, almost ready to cry again, "I know you had a duty to fulfill, and if there was any possible way I could have let you know when I found out…"

"Elizabeth, it's all right," he said, and enveloped her in his arms comfortingly as her tears dampened his shirt. He definitely felt pain that he had to miss the first part of his son's life, but he couldn't place any guilt on her, not after what she had done for him. "Don't think I blame you at all for not being able to tell me. There was nothing that could have been done. If… if I hadn't been made captain of the _Dutchman_, the alternative would have been…" he trailed off, but Elizabeth finished for him.

"Would have been death."

Will nodded, not wanting to imagine how the circumstances would have been different if he had actually died. Elizabeth spoke again.

"So do you think it was worth it, then?"

Will didn't have to think long as he held his wife close to his beating heart, on the solid ground of the twisting path, the sea sparkling below them in the moonlight.

"Yes," he said softly, remembering their reunion on the beach a little while before, "Yes, I think it was worth it."

They kissed. Not the frenzied, starved, needy kiss from before, but calmer and softer. As they tasted each other, it seemed that tingling electricity spread from their mouths to every other part of their bodies, awaking sensations they had both nearly forgotten. Reveling in this new awakening, and thinking ahead to how they would surely be spending their time later that evening, they both wordlessly smiled at each other and continued on the path, their arms around each other.

As they reached the top of the bluff, they could faintly see their son far ahead of them in the approaching night, coming up on a large cottage set back a few hundred yards from the cliff edge. There were a few trees, some bearing tropical fruit, and an extensive lawn. There was a small gazebo and a fresh water spring, which was all that Will could see in the present dimming light. He saw his son reach the front yard and start playing with a furry grey puppy.

Will and Elizabeth stopped at the top of the bluff and looked out over the sea, lit brightly by the rising moon, at the same spot where she had been waiting for him only a little while before. They took on this spectacle for a moment, and then looked back at the house, light shining brightly from the windows.

"This is where you live?" Will asked, taken in by the surrounding beauty. Elizabeth nodded.

"Most of the time. When we're not at sea or in Singapore… or Shipwreck Cove or Tortuga or Port Royal…" Will grinned.

"King."

"_And_ former governor's daughter as well. It's not easy living a double life, though I must admit I'm a bit lax in holding up my responsibilities to the latter."

"I wouldn't imagine you'd like having to make your appearances at Port Royal in a corset and gown," said Will as they continued walking along towards the house.

"Lord, no. I only show up there about once a year, to let them know I'm still around. That's how this area is relatively safe now." Elizabeth nodded in the direction of Shipwreck Island a few miles away. "I let it be known that this area is perfectly safe – virtually inhabited – and they believe me and leave us alone.

"And William comes along with you on these trips? To Tortuga and Singapore?" Will asked, curious to what his boy thought of such adventures, in such uncouth places. Elizabeth smiled at him, as if reading his mind.

"Oh, yes. He loves being at sea, and seeing new places. He's learning the sword too, from me, and from Jack whenever we see him."

Jack. That brought up a whole other subject that Will had been wondering about during his ten years away.

"Jack… do you see him often? Does he still have the _Pearl_?" Elizabeth grinned.

"Yes, to the first question. I'm not sure about the second – last I knew he had the _Pearl_, but he and Barbossa steal it from each other every three or four months or so, so I'm not sure anymore. You know, over time he's become sort of an Uncle Jack to William."

"I wonder why that doesn't surprise me… I suppose he really is a good man, at heart," Will said, remembering the last time he saw his friend up close, as he was dying in the rain on the _Dutchman_, before Jack helped him stab Davy Jones's heart and all went black. Will shuddered. "I need to thank him myself, after I clout him for provoking Jones in the first place."

Elizabeth put her arm back around his waist and pulled him closer to her. They walked the rest of the way to the house without speaking.

William was on the doorstep to meet them, and ran towards them in a small bundle of energy and excitement as the puppy barked and ran between his legs.

"Come on! What's taking you so long! Papa, I want to show you the house! This is Piddles. I got him in Shipwreck Cove." William picked up the puppy and held it out to his father, who noticed as he pet it that it resembled a dog he once saw in Jack's jail cell when he propositioned him to help him track down Elizabeth all those years ago. The puppy yapped and wriggled in William's arms and he put it down, where it ran between all their legs, not heeding Elizabeth's commands to behave. Chuckling, they went into the house, which was comfortable and cozy, and which let the sea breeze blow through it so that it wasn't too hot in the tropical air. William ran around showing his father the parlor, sitting room, dining room, kitchen, pantry, library, and upstairs where the bedrooms were.

"This is my room!" he announced proudly as they reached the first bedroom.

Will felt a stirring of deep, fatherly pride as he gazed on his son's room. There were drawings all over the walls of various subjects: William swordfighting, Elizabeth swordfighting, both of them on a ship, both of them standing on the cliff overlooking the sea, both of them standing by their house with Piddles… and then Will saw that some of the drawings featured three figures – the third of which could only have been himself, brandishing a sword in several heroic situations. William saw his father looking at one of these pictures, and took it off the wall to show to him.

"I made this of you," he said proudly.

Will's throat tightened and his vision was suddenly blurry as he looked at the picture. It showed the three of them standing on the beach, their arms around each other, with Will and William wearing matching bandanas and swords. Elizabeth looked a little wide around the middle, but she had a big smile in the drawing. Will cleared his throat and sat on his son's bed next to him.

"Well, let's see… you've got me and you down very well, but your mother looks a little too big…" He glanced at his wife's slim figure standing in the doorway.

"No, no," said William, taking the picture back and pointing to it, "Mama's not fat. That's my little sister."

Will's mouth fell open like a codfish, and he had to gulp loudly before he could speak – not made any easier by Elizabeth's stifled giggling from the doorway.

"Your little sister?" Will asked his son, looking down on him. He put his arm around him and leaned in to look at the picture more closely, feeling some of the strongest stirrings of love he had ever felt before in his newly-restored heart. "Would you like a little sister?"

William nodded emphatically.

"Aye. I want enough little brothers and sisters to fill this entire house. And Mama's entire ship…" The boy grinned up at his father, who couldn't help laughing aloud as he saw his hopeful expression. Every time he looked on his son's face his love for him grew twice as strong, and he felt it physically in his chest. It was impossible to believe that two hours ago he was on the _Dutchman_, completely unaware of his son's existence, and now they were smiling at each other as if they had known each other all their lives.

Will bent down and whispered in his son's ear, so Elizabeth almost couldn't hear him,

"Your mother and I will do our best to oblige you, my boy."

William beamed back up at his father, all excitement and childhood innocence. Will kissed the top of his son's head and stood up. Elizabeth was silently smiling at him, trying not to laugh. Turning away from her so as not to fall under the same risk, he said to William,

"Why don't we let you get ready for bed, and we'll talk more in the morning."

William stood and faced his father defiantly.

"I never go to bed without Mama telling me a story."

Will looked over at Elizabeth, who shrugged with a faint smile. He looked back to his son, who was gazing up at him with a hopeful, almost nervous expression.

"Will you tell me a story, Papa?"

Will had the distinct feeling that his son had been waiting to ask that question for most of his life. And seeing his boy looking up at him with so much hope and love in his familiar brown eyes, it was impossible for Will to answer anything other than yes.

"Of course I will," he answered, and William's large, excited smile of response filled Will's heart with such a huge swell of love that he thought himself in danger of breaking down in tears again.

Ten minutes later, William was in his nightclothes and ready for bed. Elizabeth went to the master bedroom to get it ready, and to give them some time alone. William was busy showing his father his wooden sword, and the skillful moves he had mastered already.

"This is what I practice with. Mama says I can have a real one when I'm sixteen, but I'm pretty good with this one already. I injured Uncle Jack last month when he last came by."

Will had to laugh aloud as he dodged a swing.

"You _injured_ Uncle Jack? What did he do after that?"

"He swore a lot, but I think he was still impressed."

Will laughed even more, and caught the wooden blade mid-swing right before it hit the lamp.

"No swordfighting indoors, now. We don't want to burn the house down on my first night back."

William put the sword down thoughtfully and went to sit on his bed. After a few moments he spoke.

"Papa?"

Will sat down next to him and smiled inwardly as William yawned, the excitement of the day finally catching up with him.

"Yes, William?"

William hesitated, as if he were afraid to hear the answer to the question he was about to ask.

"Are you really going to get to stay with us? You won't have to go back out to sea?"

William stared at the scars on his father's chest that was visible through his low-necked shirt. One was small and short, where Davy Jones had stabbed Will with his own sword that he had made for James Norrington, long ago – what had essentially killed him. The other was a diagonal gash, where Bootstrap had cut out his son's heart in order to save his life. Even though Will could feel his heart beating unfamiliarly in his chest, he still felt a searing emptiness whenever he looked at that scar.

He closed up his shirt a little so his son wouldn't have to see the scars, and answered him, bringing his arm around his shoulder protectively.

"Yes, I really get to stay here with you. And with your mother. The only way I'm going back out to sea is if you're both coming with me." William grinned and tried not to yawn again.

"I love the sea," he said serenely.

"Aye, me too," his father answered as he tucked him into bed, "But I love you more."

From the expression that appeared on his son's face, Will suspected that he had been wanting to hear that his whole life, from a father who didn't even know he existed. Realizing this, Will went on, determined to let his son know exactly how much he was loved.

"And I can't tell you how happy I was to see you for the first time. You are the most wonderful surprise I could ever hope for, my lad."

William held his father's rough hand in his small ones, and settled into his pillows – the most perfect vision of serenity, happiness, and hope Will had ever seen. But William was fighting off sleep now, and he reminded his father,

"You promised to tell me a story, Papa." Will chuckled.

"So I did. Let's see… where should I start?"

"Start from the beginning. From where Mama was taken by the pirates, and you had to go find her with Uncle Jack."

"Ah, very well… the beginning... So… it all began one morning, when Uncle Jack arrived at Port Royal in the tiniest, most dilapidated dinghy you had ever seen—it had practically sunk before it reached the dock. He poked around until he'd spotted a ship of the Royal Navy, guarded by these two rather inept gentlemen—meanwhile, your mother was at a ceremony honoring…"

He went on for a few more minutes until he noticed that his son had fallen fast asleep. He was trying not to feel too embarrassed about his apparent lack of storytelling skills when Elizabeth spoke from the doorway.

"Don't worry. You can finish it tomorrow."

He stared at her from his son's bed, wondering how long she had been there. She was now dressed in a very light, airy nightgown. Her hair was tied loosely behind her neck, and her skin glowed in the lamplight. He rose from the bed to join her in the doorway, both staring at their son as he slept.

"He's so beautiful, Elizabeth," Will whispered to her, "I still can't believe that he's mine. That he's _ours_." He wrapped his strong arm around her waist as she silently nodded. "He's perfect, and he's ours."

They watched him silently for a while longer as the lamplight burned lower. Finally, Elizabeth spoke.

"I'm so happy, Will. I'm so happy you love him as much as I do."

"How could I not? I couldn't imagine a more wonderful gift." He squeezed her softly. "I've waited so long to see you again – done my duty as best as I could to satisfy Calypso – hoped that the day would come when I would be free to be with you again. And then when today did come – to find not only you here waiting for me, as beautiful as I've ever seen–" (Elizabeth blushed.) "—but to find that we have a son as well! It's… it's just more than I could ever believe."

Elizabeth hugged him across the chest, feeling his heart beating strongly against hers. They stood like this for a long moment, watching their son sleep, until the lamplight had almost burned out. Elizabeth went to blow out the lamp so there would be enough oil left for tomorrow, and both of them went out into the hallway, closing the door softly behind them.

Now alone, they simultaneously realized what was left for them to do… what they had been wanting to do deep down ever since they had seen each other on the beach hours ago. Elizabeth smiled mischievously at her husband with a slightly quirked eyebrow, while he grinned wolfishly back at her, reading a thousand inappropriate thoughts in her eyes. He caught her in her arms and she stood on her toes to kiss him, but as their lips were millimeters away from touching, she whispered,

"Let's go to bed."

Without another word, he gallantly swept her up off the floor and into the master bedroom.


	3. Reconnecting

WARNING – Rating Change! We finally get to the lovin' in this chapter, though I tried not to make it too, too smutty… enjoy!

To Elizabeth, the ten years Will had been gone in many ways equaled 3,650 nights she had fallen asleep alone. Her days had been filled with her son and her duties, but she had grown to resent the night and the nightmares it had brought.

Now, she had to agree with what her husband had said earlier on their way up to the house – that it had been worth it. To Elizabeth, it was worth those thousands of empty nights alone to know that she and Will could be together for the rest of their lives.

And now, telling from the wildly passionate way Will was kissing her even before he laid her on the bed, she imagined he felt the same way.

They were both kneeling on the bed now, facing each other, undressing each other rapidly with trembling fingers, stealing swift kisses in between. Elizabeth lifted Will's shirt over his head while Will tried to lift her nightdress at the same time, resulting in tangled limbs and muffled giggles. Soon they were left in naught but their underclothes, and Will's bandana. He started to take that off too, until Elizabeth requested him breathlessly to leave it on.

They had fallen back on the pillows now, covered themselves in the linen sheet, and were kissing as frantically as if the world were coming to an end. Elizabeth was starting to feel some stirrings of pleasure ahead of schedule, so she managed to murmur between breaths,

"Will – shouldn't we slow down a little?" Will paused from kissing her jawline.

"Wha?"

Elizabeth couldn't help but smile at her husband, his brown eyes overfilling with a combination of tenderness and wild desire.

"Why don't we come up for air for a minute… make it last longer?"

He propped himself on his elbow next to her, fingering the sheet that was all that separated him from her bare skin. He kissed her again, slower, their tongues dancing in each others mouths, slowing the sensations they felt all over to a gentle tingle.

"I'll try, love," Will murmured hoarsely, his hand gently moving the sheet down, "But it's been a very long time…"

Elizabeth nodded, and her breath quickened as she saw Will's expression when he had her body in full view, only her most intimate of regions hidden by underdrawers. She suddenly panicked a little inwardly as she realized that while Will, having been immortal for the last decade, didn't look a day older than he had been the last time they had made love, she was a full ten years older than when he had last seen her like this, and after birthing a child and a decade of hard physical work, her body was not the same as it had been when he last saw it. Will noticed her apprehensive expression and immediately moved to reassure her, kissing her all the way down from her lips to her navel.

"You've never looked more beautiful, darling," he said softly into her skin, pulling her underdrawers away and continuing his kisses down her thighs. He paused and looked up at her, repeating, "You are _so_ beautiful."

She could barely hear him as she shuddered with every new place he touched, but she understood. She could only tangle her fingers in his hair as he touched her in places that made her sigh and other places that made her bite her lips. Her hands and fingers moved deftly across his chest and over his back, downwards, until they met the fabric of his drawers. She stopped, and he looked her in the eye.

"This is not fair. You're far more clothed than I am."

He grinned wolfishly at her as she pulled them off.

Now there was nothing separating them. They fell back on the pillows, gasping at the sensation of feeling bare skin on bare skin, pressing themselves to each other, beginning to make instinctive movements, their most intimate extremities in close contact. They reveled at the sensation of friction between them, both of them breaking out in a thin sheen of sweat, the heat inside them steadily increasing.

Will moved to situate himself on top of her, sighing as she kissed down his neck and shoulder, tasting the salt on his tanned and freckled skin, feeling so close to connecting their most intimate of places. She felt it too, and she arched her back against him, urging him forward with her legs. She looked up at him, her eyes half-closed with pleasure to see him looking back at her, his eyes asking if she was ready.

"Go on," she gasped, and he did, slowly – they gasped and held their breath until he was completely buried in her, then they both let out sighs laced with pleasure.

They stayed still for a moment, their expressions completely locked to each other, memorizing this moment and how it felt. How after ten years of celibacy and loneliness, this was the reward – the most intimately connected it was possible for two people passionately in love to be.

They started to move, finding a rhythm that quickly brought their passion up several degrees. The heat spread from their nether regions quickly to all corners of their bodies, making them gasp and sigh at every new sensation. Will was breathing roughly into Elizabeth's hair, alternately kissing her cheek as he moved with her. Elizabeth was reveling in the feel of Will's weight on top of her, the delicious friction his thrusts, his moans of pleasure, all of which only aroused her even more. One hand was buried in his hair, the other was dancing over his back, down to his buttocks and back again – from time to time she turned her head and nibbled his ear, kissed his jaw. Their rhythm got faster, and they both breathed heavier, precariously close to the edge.

"Will?" Elizabeth gasped, looking at him in the eye. He glanced back at her and his heart skipped a beat when he saw her expression, though their rhythm didn't change. Her eyes conveyed it all – the pleasure, the happiness, the bitterness, the sadness. Everything had been building to this point.

In answer, he crushed his lips to hers, forming a new and different connection, bringing their arousal up to a dizzying plateau.

When he came up panting for air, he knew he couldn't hold out much longer.

"_I…can't_…"

So close.

Elizabeth exclaimed into his ear,

"Don't hold back,"

At this invitation, the dam broke. The heat rose and exploded in molten sensation – Elizabeth's passion finally overflowed the brim as Will made his final thrusting movements against her. She cried out his name in utter exultation, holding onto him for dear life as he neared his finish. Hearing her cry, Will's vision expanded in a brilliant white light and he exploded himself into her core, crying her name too in a last, shuddering breath. Together, they felt like they were flying.

Gradually, the heat ebbed away, leaving them breathless and suddenly exhausted. Will collapsed on her and they remained like this for a while, until Elizabeth found it difficult to breathe. She nudged Will, hazily wondering if he was unconscious. When he didn't move, she couldn't think of anything else to do except to bite his shoulder, salty with sweat and the sea. He grunted in surprise and made a tremendous effort to turn over onto his back, breathing as heavily as if he had just run a marathon.

"Good God, Elizabeth," he panted, turning on his side to look at her across the pillow, her eyes overflowing with as much love as he felt. They lay facing each other, the last echoes of passion still making their limbs tremble.

"I love you, Will," breathed Elizabeth softly, her voice catching in her throat, "I love you so much… so much."

"I love you too," he responded, gathering her in his arms, "More than I can ever describe, my darling."

They found a position that seemed natural, her head in the crook of his neck, one arm over his chest, their legs nestled together. They laid like this for a while silently, breathing in the scent of each other's skin, feeling utterly comfortable and at home in each other's arms.

Then they began to talk of things softly, murmuring endearments and professions of their feelings to each other, knowing that this must be a close idea of what heaven was like. Elizabeth looked at her husband, loving every inch of him, thinking of how it could have been like this for the last ten years if circumstances had been different. This sadness, combined with the heavenly knowledge that he was returned to her, that he was here to stay, and that he loved her with every fiber of his being, overwhelmed her so that her eyes began to well up.

Will saw the first tear fall and he wasted no time in holding her close, murmuring that it was all right. Before this day he had only seen her cry twice – when she realized that her father had died, and when Will himself had been stabbed on the _Dutchman_, exactly ten years ago today. He couldn't bear to see her heart breaking.

"Elizabeth, please don't cry," he whispered, kissing the salty tears away, "Come on, it couldn't have been _that_ bad."

She laughed wetly and kissed him back.

"I just missed you so much, Will," she said, "I didn't fully realize _how_ much until I had you back with me… I'm so glad you're back…" She snuggled back down, kissing his tanned shoulder, her arm still across his warm chest. Will held her securely, his head turned towards hers, breathing in the scent of her hair.

"I missed you too, love," he murmured, "All this time I thought I had the hard job, but you had to raise a child by yourself. I'm so very, very proud of you, you know." He kissed her head. "And so very grateful… for William… for everything."

"When I found out, I thought of him as your gift to me," said Elizabeth sleepily against the crook of his neck, fatigue catching up fast, her breath on his sensitive skin making him shudder, "I don't think I was ever more happy or more sad at the same time."

He gave her a slight squeeze in response, wishing that things could have been different, but glorying in the fact that circumstances turned out as well as they did.

"Go to sleep," he whispered as she yawned against him, her eyes unable to stay open, "I'll be here in the morning."

She sighed and settled into him, her breathing becoming regular. Will reached over and turned down the lamp until the only light came from the silver moon outside. He pulled the sheet up and held Elizabeth again, closing his eyes and drifting off into the warm scent of her hair and her skin, never having felt more comfortable and content before in his life.

They slept.


End file.
